


a promise in the dark

by fictionalparadises



Series: in the quiet of the night [4]
Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Boys In Love, Dark, Dark Past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Love, Mutual Pining, Pining, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalparadises/pseuds/fictionalparadises
Summary: “You can tell me every terrible, monstrous thing you’ve ever done and I will still love you with my whole heart.”
Relationships: Cody Ko & Noel Miller, Cody Ko/Noel Miller
Series: in the quiet of the night [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640536
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	a promise in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> y'all are in for a wild ride,,, 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: loss of loved ones and mention of suicide. yes it gets dark but i did as the public demanded & wrote a lot of fluff too so not to worry,,, 
> 
> this is only fiction and in no way meant to be taken seriously. enjoy!!!

Noel curls and uncurls his fingers at his sides as he walks through the quiet corridors. Every now and then, his hand brushes past Cody’s, who is walking next to him and is definitely doing it on purpose.

Cody wears a smug smile that says he knows how Noel is feeling. Or maybe it’s just part of his persona here at HQ. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he wants to kiss the smirk off his face. 

He feels like it’s 2004 all over again, 15 years old and still head over heels in high school. 

“Later,” Cody mutters. 

Later. Noel inclines his head in agreement.

When they’re sitting in an office minutes later, chairs an excruciating amount of feet away from each other, their boss is looking them so suspiciously that Noel wonders if it’s written on his face: _I love the man that’s sitting beside me._

They go from the office to the black SUV that’s waiting for them outside, Noel in a bit of a daze, Cody quiet and contemplating, the brown folder clenched between his fingers so tightly that his joints have turned white. Noel can practically see the wheels behind Cody’s eyes spinning—processing their new mission and what it will mean for him. 

A wedding. They’re going to have to kill someone’s father at a wedding. 

Noel’s not really worried about the killing part—that has never been the problem—but the wedding might bring along some complications. Especially because Cody has been staring out of the window for the entire ride to the airport and Noel isn’t sure why he’s been quiet, legs bouncing up and down anxiously. He’d grab his hand, but who knows who the driver reports back to, and if there’s another fear Noel has besides losing Cody, it’s HQ somehow finding out about the relationship between them and deciding to end it, by whatever means necessary. 

“You okay?” 

Cody’s head snaps to him, brows furrowing. “What? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” 

He’s not. Noel can see it in his eyes, but if he doesn’t want to talk about it, then he respects that. “Okay.” 

When they arrive at the private part of the airport, it’s still warm outside even though the sun has already started to set. The light bounces of the private jet and Noel shields off his eyes, grabbing his backpack out of the car to sling it over his shoulder. 

He doesn’t wait for Cody as he walks over to the pilot, who shakes his hand as if they’re long lost friends. 

The flight is quiet, too, and Noel can feel the silence starting to push in on him. All Cody has done for the past two hours is stare at the sky beyond, chin resting on his palm and face contorted into a troubled expression. The orange sunlight casts shadows on his face. 

He feels bad for doing this, but it’s necessary. “Cody? We should go through the plan.” His head whips to him and he listens as Noel talks about the best strategies for to eliminate Markov. Poison won't work on him, and he's got too many men around to trick them into leaving. 

The plane lands. The Miami heat is suffocating when they get out, so different from LA but still all the same. 

The hotel they’re staying in is next to the beach. Noel shoves the duffel bag with guns under the bed with his foot and tosses his backpack in the corner, opening the glass doors that lead outside. 

He sits down on a chair on the small terrace and closes his eyes, just for a moment. He can hear the sea, feel the heat of the sun even though he’s sitting in the shadows, can feel the traces of white sand under his bare feet. 

A wedding. Noel huffs out a quiet laugh, tilting his head back. He knows what is asked of him—you don’t go to a wedding and bring your best friend—and he knows it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. He should be glad that he gets to spend a weekend with Cody out in the open, kissing him in public and holding his hand without having to glance over his shoulder, but instead it feels like someone is pulling a sick, twisted joke on him. 

If anything, it’s just a reminder of how he can never have that—he can never love Cody openly, can never scream it from the rooftops like he’d want to, because HQ knows who they are and they would never, ever let them. 

A plastic chair scrapes over the red tiles as Cody sits down next to him. Noel’s eyes snap open. 

Cody leans back, eyes focused on the sea nearby. “I’m—” He starts, cutting himself off. His shoulders sag. “I’ve had a mission like this before,” he says after a long moment. “A wedding, I mean. And, uh, it didn’t—it didn’t really end well.” He’s nervous, Noel notices. Cody never stutters, never hesitates with words, always confident—as if he knows everything Noel does not. 

He holds out his hand. After a moment of contemplation, Cody intertwines their fingers.

Noel doesn’t speak. Cody stares at their joined hands. 

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? How everything you do in life, every choice you make, always finds a way to come back to you?” 

He thinks on Cody’s words for a moment. It is. And even though he hates himself for admitting it, he would go through every mission, every kill, every shot, he would take every step and endure every loss again if it meant he’d be where he is now—with Cody next to him, hand closed in his, looking so impossibly beautiful that Noel’s chest tightens to the point of physical pain. 

Finally, Cody meets his gaze, and he sees both understanding and heartache in his eyes. The same longing for freedom. 

“I’m here,” he whispers, squeezing Cody’s hand once. 

And though he doesn’t reply, Noel can hear the unspoken answer in the air between them. _I know_.

* * *

When Noel wakes up, it’s two in the morning and the spot beside him is empty. He pushes himself up to his elbows and blinks the sleep from his eyes, kicking back the covers as he glances at the opened balcony doors, the white curtains softly fluttering in the wind.

Cody’s standing on the beach, a few feet from the shore. The sand is still warm as Noel quietly walks over, the breaking of waves covering up the sound of his steps.

Nonetheless, Cody knows—like he knows everything—and doesn’t startle from Noel’s sudden presence, merely grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers.

Long minutes tick by. The moonlight reflects on the endless black ocean.

“I once tortured someone for seventy-two hours,” Cody suddenly says, and Noel barely recognizes his voice, full of regret and pain and shame. “He was an artist. I saw his paintings—they were beautiful. And I cut off his fingers, one by one.”

Noel remains silent. He’s not surprised. Truth is that he’s heard worse. HQ is relentless.

“I killed a mother in front of her three year old daughter. I took my time drowning someone, letting them come up for air every time they reached death’s doorstep and when they caught their breath, dunked them under again because—” he almost chokes out the words, “—because I knew drowning was their worst fear.” Cody fixes his gaze on the horizon. There’s a silver lining in his eyes. “And that’s not even the worst of it. I’ve done so many fucked up things Noel, but—but this wedding mission I had, it was a disaster. And I had to kill my own—” A strangled sob comes from his throat.

Noel’s heart splinters, right in his chest.

He lets go of Cody’s hand and moves to stand in front of him, lifting his face with his hands.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Noel. I don’t know. I had to kill her and—”

“Look at me,” Noel breathes. “Cody, look at me.”

Slowly, he raises his eyes to Noel, vision blurred by the tears.

“You’ve killed good people as well as bad. Do you think I’m any better than you? I’ve killed innocent people, mothers, fathers, children. I’ve torn apart families simply because I was going to get paid for it. Don’t you dare take on that roll now—we are all someone’s villain here. The only exception is that you have the decency to feel regret.”

Salt water sprays on Noel’s bare legs. 

“You can tell me every terrible, monstrous thing you’ve ever done and I will still love you with my whole heart.” He takes a beat, desperately hopes that the words wills sink in. “I love you, you hear me? Every part of my being loves every part of yours. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing, Cody Kolodziejysk.”

Silent tears leave trails on Cody’s cheeks. Then he wraps his arms around Noel so tightly that it almost hurts.

Later, when they’re tangled in the white sheets, the ocean lulls him asleep, making his eyelids grow heavy and his breath even out.

Right before Noel falls asleep, Cody whispers, “I’ll find a way out of this. I promise.”

And somewhere in the back of his mind, there’s a voice saying that there is no way out, at least not one where they reach the end of the line alive, that it’s fine as long as they have each other. Somewhere, faintly, the words set off an alarm inside his head, but then the darkness sweeps in and pulls him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Cody seems to feel better the next day. He’s more talkative, going on about what kind of cake he hopes will be at the wedding and how he absolutely hates dancing but looks forward to seeing Noel pull out the moves, and Noel just smiles because at least he has an excuse to ask Cody to dance.

They go over the plan again, stuck in the heat of their room with a broken AC, and when it gets unbearable, Cody jumps up and storms outside, leaving a trail of clothes behind him. For a moment, Noel thinks he’s gone mad, but then he sprints after him, eager to catch up, almost stumbling over his own feet as he kicks of his jeans.

The salt water in combination with the brightness of the sun bouncing off the surface makes his eyes hurt, but it’s all fine when Cody comes up from under the waves, shaking his head to get the wet hair out of his face.

Noel is so busy staring that he’s pushed over by a wave. Cody throws back his head and lets out a burst of laughter.

He wants it to be like this for the rest of his life, with Cody laughing freely, his memories forgotten.

“You're sure you can swim?” Cody teases as he wades through the water until he reaches Noel.

Noel snorts. “You forgot to put on your water wings, huh? Should I go grab them for you?” Cody clings onto him like he’s about to drown, and Noel feels his body heat through the cool water as he wraps his arms around Cody’s waist.

“Fuck you,” Cody shoots back, closing the gap between them and kissing Noel carefully.

Noel tastes the salt, can feel Cody’s smile. “Please do.” He replies, and Cody lets out a breathy laugh in between kisses, his hands making a bigger mess from Noel’s already tangled hair. “It will take me hours to get that straight again, you moron.”

“Impossible.”

“How come?” Noel asks, pulling back slightly.

Cody has a shit eating grin on his face as he says, “Because you aren’t.”

“Shut up, man,” Noel laughs, splattering water in Cody’s face before tightening his arms around him again.

“Luckily,” Cody mutters as he draws near again, “we have all the time in the world.”

They don’t. But it doesn’t matter, because in that moment Noel is the happiest he’s ever been in his life, because Cody is in his arms and they’re making out in the fucking Atlantic Ocean and nothing else matters anymore but this.

* * *

Cody was wrong about the cake. There is no plain vanilla wedding cake—instead, there are three different cakes, all a different flavor, and Noel laughs so hard at Cody’s expression that his stomach hurts from it.

There are around three-hundred guests at the wedding, but Noel only has eyes for one.

The ceremony is outrageously extravagant, yet monotonous. Cody constantly looks like he’s about to fall asleep, so Noel intertwines their fingers and squeezes every time his eyes droop.

“We used to go to kindergarten together,” Cody says every time someone asks who they are to the bride and groom, and then he points to Noel and proudly adds, “And this is my fiance.”

Noel pretends he doesn’t feel the sting in his chest alongside the way his heart skips a beat every time Cody says that.

As he glances at the staff every now and then, he wonders why, exactly, they didn’t infiltrate the catering. Slowly, it dawns on him that maybe HQ knew what they were doing with this mission— _see for yourself what could have been but never will be._

It almost turns his mood sour, but then Cody pulls him onto the dance floor as a slow song starts and it’s forgotten, the negative thoughts dismissed.

He lets himself enjoy the night as it advances, the sky turning from blue to orange to black, and only when the moon is high up in the sky, he nudges Cody’s arm and excuses them from the group they were talking with, pulling his fiance along with a smug grin on his face.  They walk down the deserted hallways to their hotel room. Cody doesn’t let go of Noel’s hand. Noel doesn’t want him to.

“Should we order some food?” Cody asks, a rowdy glint in his eyes. Noel realizes that as much as Cody hates this—the killing, the endless missions—he also lives for the thrill, the adrenaline rush. That he’s high from it until the lightning strikes, and only then does he realize how fast he’s plummeting down the sky.

“Well, if you insist,” he replies casually, throwing the menu towards him.

Cody orders a ridiculous amount of food—it’s a pity that it’ll be cold once they get to eat it—and as they wait, Noel pulls the duffel bag from under their bed. The mattress dips as Cody sits down next to him.

They assemble their guns, screwing on silencers and checking the magazines, the mechanisms clicking into place, and they listen to the waves crashing onto the sand beyond the doors of their balcony.

If Noel had to pick his favorite sound, he’s not sure which of the two he’d choose: the sea or the guns.

A knock at the door makes Cody jump up. “We’ll bring this all back later,” he says with a forceful smile, foot set against the door so the staff member can’t see what’s going on inside.

Their tuxedos are swapped for the white blouses and red waistcoats the staff wears—ones they took from the kitchens earlier today. The countless plates are put all over the room, wherever there’s space left, and they clear a food coche, the silver bowl so perfectly polished that Noel can see his reflection. The guns are hidden beneath the off-white table linen. 

“You ready?” Cody glances at Noel when they’re standing in the elevator. The red numbers go up.

“I suppose I should be asking you that,” Noel replies. Of course he’s ready for this. But he’s not sure Cody is—it is impossible not to notice the tapping of his fingers on his wrist, the continuously shifting of poses, the way he’s dragged his hand through his hair a million times the past few minutes.

“Yeah—yeah, I am.”

Surprisingly enough, Noel believes him. Beside the slight tremor in his voice, there is a certain eagerness. He recognizes the sound of it because he feels it too. There’s something else in Cody’s voice, but Noel can’t figure it out what it is.

Two people get out of their hotel room just as they walk past. Cody flashes them a polite smile and a good evening. Noel’s eyes are fixated on the worn-out carpet, counting the doors and recalling the exit routes in case the plan goes south.

The far end of the hallway is entirely reserved for Markov. He should be in his room by now, no doubt surrounded by all his bodyguards. It’s a surprise he even came to his daughter’s wedding, with the bounty that’s been placed on his head.

Cody lifts his hand to knock, but Noel’s fingers close around his wrist tightly before he can touch the wood. He shakes his head silently and signals for him to step back.

Noel knocks and listens as footsteps approach. Cody is tense and ready behind him.

“Who is it?” A heavy Russian accent speaks up, muffled from behind the door.

“Room service, sir.”

There’s a short exchange in Russian, and then, “We didn’t order anything.” Noel remains silent. Cody moves forward, but Noel stops him with a hand. “Who are you two really?”

_Nothing but darkness_ , Noel thinks as he lifts his gun and shoots through the peephole, once, twice. He steps aside and lets Cody kick in the door.

They’re a whirlwind of bullets, leaving a trail of bodies behind. The bodyguards are good, but Noel and Cody are better—they came prepared, have trained years to take down men like them, gave up their fucking humanity to do so. And they know every inch of each other, know the way the other moves and thinks.

Noel wonders if some people are made for each other. And if they are, maybe they are meant to be two sides of the same coin. Maybe Noel found Cody because he is as broken as he is. Maybe Cody is the only one on this entire earth that can help Noel and maybe Noel is the only one that can help Cody.

And somehow, that thought is reassuring.

Markov sits at the head of the table, all of his bodyguards scattered face-down on the floor, inching closer to death’s threshold as the seconds tick by. He wears a stone-hewed expression, something like arrogance lining the edges.

Cody’s hand is trembling as he aims his gun at Markov’s forehead.

Then six more men storm in, taking them by surprise, and Noel fails to dodge the blow to his head. His vision is spinning, the pain a pulsating ache and he tries to shake it off, pulling the trigger blindly behind him. A body collapses on top of him and almost takes him down with it.

His sight clears. He shoots someone in the chest. The gun jams and Noel curses as he quickly puts in a new magazine, years of practice making it easy, and involuntarily, his eyes flick to Cody. He’s struggling—Noel can see the doubt creeping in again, the memories. The white of his eyes are showing.

A bodyguard launches himself on him. Cody barely manages to shoot twice, blood splattering his face and in his mouth, the body sagging in front of him.

_Fuck._ He’s going to have a panic attack.

Cody’s eyes flit around the room, but they’re not really _seeing_. He’s seeing someone else, a different place,a different time. Noel used to have that on his first missions after Aleena got killed. He just couldn’t stop seeing her, couldn’t stop hearing her voice, the way she laughed.

“Cody!” Noel shouts, grunting when someone grabs his arm and yanks it back. He half-turns, shoots once, turns back. “Nothing,” he reminds Cody of his words from the previous night. “ _Nothing_.”

He almost visibly snaps back into his own body, forcing out the memories, the past, the voices. All there is, is here and now. All that matters is Noel. The rest is insignificant.

The last bodyguard goes down. Markov still sits at the table, refusing to acknowledge his defeat.  Cody turns, stretches his arm slowly, but a shot rings through the air, leaving a perfect hole in Markov’s head. Cody whips around to Noel, who lowers his gun, and their gazes meet in a brief moment of understanding.

Then Noel inclines his head. “Come on.”  There’s blood on Cody’s face and Noel’s white shirt, but there’s not enough time to change. It won’t be long before someone comes to check in.

Once they’re back in their own hotel room, Cody stumbles to the bathroom as fast as his legs will carry him.

Noel waits for a few moments, tossing the bloodied revolvers on the bed, then looks from the threshold with a frown deepening between his brows, yet Cody seems fine, mostly. He hasn’t thrown up, is now standing under the shower, still half-clothed and face scrunched up.

Slowly, Noel pushes off the doorstep. The water is boiling hot, turning Cody’s skin an aggressive red, and Noel carefully adjusts the temperature.

“Are you okay?”

After a moment, Cody nods. He opens his eyes, which are surprisingly clear, and turns to him. “Thank you,” he croaks.

_What for_ , he wants to ask, but he knows the answer.

_ Thank you for keeping me sane. Thank you for holding my hand when I need it the most. _

The water turns from troubled pink to clear. Cody turns off the tap.

They change into jeans and too-large t-shirts with Miami printed on, sunglasses in Cody’s hair and a cap on Noel’s.

The food has gone cold, but they still eat it as Cody wipes the camera footage and Noel packs their stuff.

It’s five in the morning, the first rays of sunshine creeping over the horizon already. “We should leave in an hour.”

So they do. They go out the front door of the hotel hand in hand, just two tourists going out for another day of sightseeing, yelling goodbyes at the receptionist, walking towards the morning sun and Noel just feels so fucking _happy_.

* * *

Back in LA, it’s different. No kissing on the street. No holding hands in public. They’re confined to their homes, a secret and two liars, hiding away. Still, Noel refuses to let that ruin his mood. He’s never felt so at peace, like he is exactly where he’s supposed to be, like the blood on his hands is nothing but dye that he can paint his love with.

Something has changed within Cody as well, though Noel can’t put his finger on what it is. It’s like he’d been standing in front of a T-junction for months and now finally made up his mind about which way to go.

He wakes up early one morning, knowing they’ll have separate missions again now, so he lets himself look at Cody as he sleeps for a bit longer. 

Then he blinks at the clock in surprise, because it’s already seven and—neither of them woke up during the night. No nightmares, no throwing up, no screaming.  Noel stares at the clock until his eyes burn from it, trying to wrap his head around that fact, and when he looks back to Cody, he feels like he could cry.

_I love you_. It’s a chant in his head.

As if on command, Cody opens his eyes, and then he smiles.

* * *

Noel has a solo mission. When he gets back, Cody’s house is cold and empty, indicating that he has been gone for more than a few days.

He takes off to his own apartment, knowing he has to be careful, even though he’d rather be laying in Cody’s bed, in sheets that still smell faintly of him.

Noel catches a cold. He has a headache and the sunlight is so bright that the blinds are closed for the majority of the day. He hasn’t seen Cody in over a week, which makes the situation even worse.

“Noel,” someone calls to him in the dark. _Cody_. “Hi.” He smiles.

It’s the middle of the night. At least, Noel thinks it is. Is he dreaming?

Two warm hands press to either sides of his face and it feels familiar. He’s still half-asleep, trying to blink the drowsiness from his eyes and he looks around the room, because _is he dreaming?_ and the hands press harder on his cheeks, forcing him to look at Cody.

“What’s going on?” He manages to get out, and Cody lets out a soft laugh.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he replies and Noel isn’t sure what the glaze in Cody’s eyes means. “Go back to sleep, hm? I’ll see you again soon.”

Definitely a fever dream.

Maybe he should drink more water, Noel thinks.

The warm hands leave his face. “That’s a promise.” _What is?_ he wants to ask, but then the sleep pulls him under again, and Cody slowly dissolves in the dark.

* * *

The news comes three days later.

Noel is sitting in that damned office again and it’s as if the world turns blurry for a moment. “What?” He falters, because he must have misheard the man sitting in front of him.

“You will be assigned a new partner, Mr. Miller.”

Something stirs in his gut. “Why? Where is my current partner?”

There’s a moment of silence. No, no, _no_. “Unfortunately, Mr. Kolodziejysk has passed away during his last mission.”

The ground is slipping beneath Noel’s feet, and he’s falling, faster and faster until he doesn’t know what is up and what is down, there’s just him and an abyss and never-ending nothingness.

“What?”

The only steady bit of ground he’d gained since Aleena’s death and now his world is crumbling in his hands again, turning to dust and slipping through his fingers.

“It was an ambush,” the man says calmly, as though Noel’s life hasn’t just collapsed, as if he’s not tumbling through the sky towards the unforgiving ground, “they had him surrounded. His body was found two days ago.”

He can’t cry, not here, not now, but his eyes are burning and his jaw hurts from trying to hold back the tears.

Cody can’t be dead. He just can’t.

But what if he is? What if the adrenaline rush got him too far, too high to count the miles down? In the end, they all crash and burn, don’t they?

In the end, no one is invincible.

“How?” He tries to even out his voice, tries to hide the thousand hints that may unfold the story if you’re willing to look close enough, but Noel fails to keep out the slight tremble as he speaks.

The man folds his hands. Noel’s eyes track the movements, afraid that his boss will be able to read everything if he looks directly into his eyes. “It wasn’t pretty, Mr. Miller. It took us hours to identify the body as his.”

He’s going to throw up. The thoughts nauseate him—hours, that means he must’ve been nearly unrecognizable.

Unwillingly, his mind wanders to places it shouldn’t. He thinks of Cody, alone and in the dark, knowing every breath could be his last. Had he thought of Noel in those final moments? Wishes for him to help, to save the day? The thoughts are selfish, but once he starts, he can’t stop.

“As I was saying, you will be assigned a new partner, Mr. Miller.”

“No.” Noel gets out, his chest caving in. _No, no, no_. He can’t—not without Cody.

“No?” The man asks, raising a brow. Then his expression turns curious, almost vicious. “Why not? Did you have a personal relationship with Mr. Kolodziejysk?”

He forces out a reply. _Think straight_ , he tells himself, but all he thinks of is Cody’s remark, _impossible, because you aren’t_ , he thinks of Miami and the sea and the sand that was still in Noel’s hair even days after they’d returned and his heart splinters in his chest. “No.”

“Did you love him?”

“No, I did not.” The words taste like ash in his mouth. He hates himself for how easy they come out.

“Then why are you objecting to a new partner?”

_Keep it together, Noel_. “I just—” He starts, cutting himself off. One wrong move and you’re out. “It’s a bit much. He died? I can’t believe it, he was a great agent.” The stone mask slides back over his face, but it doesn’t fit anymore. It grates along the edges of his face, cutting deep.

“Hm. It is a great loss, indeed.” 

Then his boss starts about his new partner. Vaguely, Noel picks up some chunks of the conversation, about him getting a few days off first, about him having to work with a woman around the same age as him, but it doesn’t really sink in.

All he thinks about is the shards of glass lying before him, that what once resembled his life, finally glued together again, only to be carried by the momentum and smashed to bits on the concrete. He’s not sure if he can pick up the pieces another time.

* * *

Noel doesn’t know where he’s driving until he stops in front of Cody’s house. A habit.

It looks so… normal. The curtains are half-drawn, lights out, the front yard the same as it was the first time he went here. It looks as if Cody might come home any moment—it looks as it always has.

The metal of the key slowly warms in his hand. Cody had given him the key to his house months ago, just for safekeeping, he’d said, but to Noel it had felt like a goddamn marriage proposal.

He clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking as he walks to the door. It looks the same because it is the same. Nothing has changed inside—and why would it?

Noel storms up the stairs, pulls open Cody’s closet, looks at the bed, desperate for any evidence that he might still be alive, that he’ll jump out from behind the door and yell _I’m still here, what’d you think, you idiot!_ and kiss him until Noel forgets the nasty feeling that has settled in his chest, right where his heart is.

One of his silver cases is gone. So are a few shirts and the backpack that he always took with him.

The sheets are still crumpled, as if Cody had jumped out, too rushed to make up the bed.

Noel feels like a ghost as he walks downstairs to the kitchen. The fridge is nearly empty. On the marble kitchen counter, there’s a list, scribbled in Cody’s hard-to-read handwriting. _Milk, eggs, apples._ At the bottom of the note is a number that he still needed to call, four figures hastily written behind it.

Noel feels like he can’t breathe. He’s back to the start, this time with neither Aleena nor Cody at his side. He needs to get out of here.

He almost trips over his own feet, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the window sill. At last, he breaks down, knees hitting the floor with a painful thud and the tears stream down his face, his body shaking with silent sobs.

When he gets back to his car, the three plants are balanced in his hands, and he carefully places them on the passenger seat.

_I’m sorry,_ he thinks as he starts the car. _I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise._

* * *

The days bleed together.

Noel spends most hours staring at the ceiling, or at the wall, or at the table, trying to suppress memories and failing every time.

He wishes he held Cody just a little bit longer that one morning, appreciated the feel of his arms around him just a bit more. But there are no take-backs, no second chances. No shot to redeem himself this time.

He’s not sure what purpose the gun on his nightstand serves. A promise or an insurance.

_Don’t die_ , he’d said as always before he left for his own mission. And Cody still had.

Noel tries. He tries really, really hard, but no matter his efforts, whenever he attempts to get himself together, he falls apart even more. The shards of glass just cut deeper every time he tries to pick them up.

And then it clicks. Not a fever dream—a goodbye.

Cody had known he was going to die. _I’ll see you again soon. That’s a promise._

The grocery list. Noel jumps out of bed, fingers shaking as he types in the phone number. He listens to the dial tone, and then a click, and— _“EAD Banks. Please enter your ID.”_

Noel squeezes his eyes shut, trying to recall the four numbers in Cody’s obscure scrawl.

_ “ID 2448. Transaction completed on April twelve. For further information, press 1. For assistance, press 2. For—” _

Noel ends the call. The kindle of hope dies out. Cody is dead, there’s no use denying it anymore. Cody is dead and Noel is still stuck in this hellhole of a life.

His eyes flick to the gun. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to end. _That’s a promise._ Maybe he’ll see Cody again in a different life.

The metal tastes like gunpowder and grease. Tears blur his vision.

_I’ll see you again soon._ Is this soon enough?

A warm hand closes around his wrist. This is it, he thinks, this is how it ends.

The hand tightens, squeezes painfully, but Noel can’t see through the burning in his eyes and it doesn’t really matter anymore, anyways.

“Noel,” that voice from the fever dream calls again, “Let go.” 

* * *

The sun is setting, the brightness of it making Noel’s eyes water slightly. He walks down the pier, the sea a familiar song that welcomes him home. _This is my favorite sound of the two_ , he decides.

A silhouette is starkly contrasted against the orange glow. The sight seems godsend, a gift from above.

The silhouette slowly turns around at Noel’s approaching footsteps. He doesn’t need to be quiet anymore. No more missions, no more killings. It’s all over now.  There are people on the beach, but it doesn’t matter as he grabs the silhouette’s hand and intertwines their fingers.

A pair of familiar brown eyes meet his. A smile slowly spreads over Cody’s face and Noel stares at it for a few seconds, disbelieving. Cody squeezes his hand, once, twice, _this is real._

Not a fever dream. Godsend indeed.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Cody says.

“Me too.”

Cody lets go of Noel’s hand and for a moment, panic seizes Noel again, reminding him of that feeling from weeks ago, but then Cody gets a key from his pocket and hands it to him.

The panic eases.

He takes the key. It’s a promise. “Which house is it?” Noel asks, looking around as if he can see it from here.

Cody holds out his hand and entwines their fingers once again. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

* * *

_Deceased_. The word is written on his file in bold letters, a large X marked across his picture. It’s a strange, out-of-body experience. He’s been staring at the screen for minutes now.

Someone pulls him out of the trance by pressing a kiss on the top of his head. Then two arms wrap around his shoulders.

“So I’m dead now?”

“Well…” Cody starts, the hint of a smile on his face. “Only to the rest of the world.”

Noel half-turns in his chair. “HQ won’t be looking for us anymore?”

Cody shakes his head. “As far as they know, we’re both dead. They don’t have any reasons to look for us.”

“So…” Noel trails off.

“We’re free.” Cody smiles, squeezing his shoulder gently. _Free_. For the first time in his life, he truly believes that he is.

“Now I’m only stuck with you.” He teases, and even though Cody grins, Noel knows that he's heard the fear behind his words. Noel will never forget what it felt like to lose him.

“Stuck, hm? Really? That’s all the thanks I get?”

Noel gives him an intent stare. “Oh, I can think of over a thousand ways to thank you.”

And god damnit, Cody _blushes_. Noel is glad he’s sitting, because he might’ve gone weak in the knees from the sight of it. Then Cody sticks his chin in the air. “Seeing is believing.”

Noel throws his head back and laughs.

_Free_.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> so this it it. i absolutely loved writing this series and thank you for all the love on these works. it truly means the world to me. 
> 
> let me know what you thought of this!! leave a comment or come find me on tumblr / twitter @sundaycore ♥


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